Chapter 27

Ty's eyes bore into mine, his gaze intense and commanding. I feel my heart race as I struggle to find the words he so desperately wants to hear.

"Tell me yes," he implores again, the rough timbre of his voice weaving a spell that I find increasingly difficult to resist.

I stare at him, unsure of everything.

What am I doing? I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, trying to decide if I'm being stupid or just careless.

He's asking, giving me a chance to say no and push him out of my house, but . . . What if?

I could simply play pretend right now. Pretend this is another life. Pretend that my body isn't humming with desire for this man—just lust because I need sex.

Pretend that he wasn't him, and most of all, I'm not me.

Pretend that I can be whole just for today.

I pull him toward me and kiss him.

And this kiss is completely different from the others. He moves the same way he does everything. He controls us, while demanding I give everything.

He moves us effortlessly to the couch, his grip confident, and suddenly, I find myself sitting across his lap, his warmth enveloping me. He doesn't hold back. He slips his hand under my shirt, groaning as he realizes I'm not wearing anything beneath it. He cups my breasts with both hands. "Fuck, yes," he growls, breaking the kiss. "You have no idea how much I want this. You."

His words send a shiver down my spine, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. I can feel the heat of his palms through the thin fabric of my shirt, and it excites me. I lean into him, my fingers running through his hair as I return his kiss. It's intense, passionate, and it scares me a little.

The intensity of our connection, the raw need that flows between us, it's overwhelming, disarming, and inescapably real.

And as much as it frightens me, it also thrills me, this undeniable pull toward him, toward us. In his arms, I'm not just surviving the moment. I'm living it, fully and irrevocably drawn to the flame of his being.

My entire body trembles with anticipation as he reaches out and takes the hem of my shirt in his big, strong hands. He stares into my eyes, reflecting a hunger that matches my own, as he slowly and seductively pulls my shirt upward, revealing my nakedness to his hungry gaze. I can feel the cool air against my heated skin. Goose bumps erupt all over my body in the best possible way, and I shiver with anticipation.

With a groan that sends shivers down my spine, Ty's lips drop to my collarbone, his warm breath teasing my sensitive skin. His tongue swirls and licks, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, making my knees weak.

He nibbles and kisses his way down my neck, his strong hands exploring every inch of me, as if he were mapping my body with his fingertips, memorizing every curve, every valley.

Finally, his mouth finds my nipple, and his hot, wet tongue flicked across the hardened peak. I moan, arching my back, offering myself to him. His lips close around me, sucking gently at first, then with increasing pressure, teasing and tormenting me until I think I might combust with need.

His teeth graze my aching flesh, sending me over the edge, and I moan his name, my fingers digging into his hair as I clutch him closer.

"Fuck," he groans, his teeth scratching my sensitive skin while his tongue soothes those bites. Heat pools low in my belly as his hands pull down my leggings, exposing me.

I want to do the same, undress him, touch him. He feels so hard and thick under me, I want to ride him. Though, he doesn't let me.

"It's your turn first," he claims. "Be a good girl, and I'll reward you."

His words ignite a fire within me, the smug assurance in his expression challenging, enticing. There's something undeniably provocative about the way he looks at me, a spark in his eyes that says he knows exactly the effect he has on me. And despite the part of me that wants to resist, to push back against his control, I find myself drawn in, caught up in the tantalizing game he's playing.

"But I really want it," I whisper back, defiance laced with desire in my voice. I grind against his cock with deliberation.

I can feel him, hard and thick. The sensation sends a thrill through me, a rush of power and desire. In his eyes, I see not just smugness, but a challenge, an invitation to delve deeper into the depths of our need, to explore the spaces between dominance and surrender.

He looks up at me, green eyes dark with hunger. "Be patient," he growls, dragging his teeth along my neck.

I'm about to expire. Come hard. He masterfully finishes taking off all my clothes and once I'm stripped of everything, he pulls my legs apart.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he says.His fingers trail up my leg, leaving a tingling wake of electricity in their path. He pauses when he reaches my most sensitive spot, his thumb pressing lightly against my clit. The pressure is exquisite, making me arch my back and gasp for more.

"Don't toy with me," I order.

He smirks. "Oh, this isn't toying, it's making sure that you enjoy every second. I want to see you come apart, darling."

"Please," I whisper, not sure what I'm asking for, but certain that I need it.

He chuckles, a low rumble that vibrates against my skin as he leans down to kiss me. "Patience, love," he says, his lips brushing against mine. "We have time."

With that promise hanging in the air between us, he begins to tease me with his fingers. He licks my juices off them, savoring every drop as if it's the sweetest nectar he's ever tasted. I whimper at the sensation, my body responding to his touch with an eagerness that borders on desperation.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, his voice husky and the deep sound of it sending a thrill straight to my core.

As he continues to rub me, his thumb never strays far from my clit, applying just enough pressure to keep me teetering on the edge of orgasm. Every time I think I can't take any more, he changes his rhythm or adds another finger, keeping me guessing and begging for more.

"Please," I whimper again, my nails digging into his shoulders as I try to hang on to some semblance of control. "I need . . . I need . . ."

"You need what?" he asks, his eyes dark with desire as he looks up at me. "Tell me what you want, Indie."

I tremble at his words, my heart racing in anticipation.

"Make the ache go away. Please," I beg.

He lifts me effortlessly, his hands firm beneath my ass, guiding me toward him. My knees spread wide, either side of his head, as he leans back against the couch. I feel his tongue glide over my folds, wet and hungry, like a predator circling its prey.

I gasp, my hips bucking involuntarily against his face, my body betraying my attempts at control. But without warning, he flips me onto my back, his mouth still devouring me. His eyes lock with mine, intense and unwavering, as if daring me to look away. But I can't, not when his tongue is dancing around my clit, sending electric currents through my veins.

"You like that?" he asks, his tone laced with satisfaction. "You want more?"

I nod feverishly, my breath coming in ragged gasps. He slides two fingers inside me, pumping them in time with his tongue, pushing me closer to the edge. And just when I think I can't take anymore, he pulls back, leaving me aching and desperate for more.

"Beg for it, darling," he growls, his voice raw and primal.

I don't hesitate. "Please," I whimper, my voice hoarse and needy. "Don't stop. I need you to make me come."

His mouth on me is like a drug, an addiction I can't shake off. Before I can say anything, his tongue is already dancing inside me, sending shivers down my spine. I moan, my back arching involuntarily as he explores every inch of my body with his lips and tongue. He groans beneath me, his grip on my hips tightening, urging me to move faster.

My orgasm builds inside me, like a tidal wave gathering strength before it crashes ashore. And just when I think I can't take anymore, he slides two fingers inside me, pumping them in time with his tongue, pushing me closer to the edge.

"Oh, God," I gasp, my voice hoarse and needy. "More . . . Please."

This time he listens. His fingers thrust faster, his mouth devours me at the same pace. The fire within me grows, a slow burn that starts deep in my belly and spreads. My whole body tenses, tightening higher and higher. I can feel his hands on me, warm and rough, as he traces patterns on my skin. He wanted me to let go, to lose control, and suddenly, pure pleasure crashes over me. I scream his name.

My breath is shallow and when I open my eyes he's looking at me intensely. "God, you're so fucking beautiful." His voice is hoarse, raw with need.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, it's like we're the only two people in the world. Then he's sitting back on the couch, holding me, cradling me as if I'm precious. "Thank you," he whispers against my hair.

"For?" I ask, wanting to return the favor, but unable to move. I'm spent.

"Trusting me. Saying yes. I swear you won't regret this," he promises, letting me lean against his chest.

"I should move. This shouldn't involve cuddling," I say but don't move.

"We're friends, darling. This is the part where you let me hold my friend, care for her because I exhausted her," he states.

"You're not what I expected," I say sleepily, trying to regain my strength and move.

This part of the friendship isn't acceptable. I know what becoming friends could do to me and I can't afford it.

"Close your eyes, you're safe," he says soothingly, but it's definitely an order.

I try to fight it, but as my eyes close I have only one thought: don't hurt me.